


Murder Eyes and Wedding Cake

by Vyranai



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Powers, Crack, Fluff and Humor, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, One Shot, Pre-Relationship, Stucky - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 20:12:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13934517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vyranai/pseuds/Vyranai
Summary: Steve’s first impression of his new neighbour is the large and fluffy ginger cat being thrust unceremoniously into his face.





	Murder Eyes and Wedding Cake

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what this trash is. It's 6:30am and the ramblings of an insomniac who wanted to try her hand at some Stucky. Maybe I'll continue it if people like it, lmao. So yeah... leave a comment.
> 
> Credit to Ginge, the large, ginger fluffball in my life. And to Kirby, his evil twin who most definitely inspired this story.

 Steve’s first impression of his new neighbour is the large and fluffy ginger cat being thrust unceremoniously into his face the second the door opens, along with a stream of fairly desperate words. “You don’t know me and I don’t know you, but I have been awake almost _twenty- three hours_ trying to perfect this fuckin’ cake and this little _traitor_ just decided that he wanted to take a bite outta it while I was in the john. Look after him for an hour, wouldya?”

Steve stares for a long moment, attempting to take in the torrent of pleading. “I’m… uh…” Steve runs a hand awkwardly through his hair, dislodging the mechanical pencil from behind his ear. He catches it before it topples to the floor. “I’m allergic to most cats-?”

The man whines almost plaintively, pulling the now squirming tiger of a cat into his broad chest. “Really? Oh shit, I’m sorry. You’re not going to suddenly drop down and start dyin’ are you?”

“No, I just kind of… go red eyed and start sniffling.” It’s not a nice sight. Steve recalls the time he discovered his allergy; on the way home from school aged six and a ginger moggy that decided to rub itself up against his leg. When he’d leaned down and petted the purring cat, it had all gone downhill from there.

Cats. _Cats._ Why did it have to be cats? At least he isn’t allergic to dogs. …yet at least.

“Ah, fuck.” The man closes his eyes in something akin to defeat. “I’m doomed.”

Steve appraises his neighbour closer now that the cat isn’t blocking the view; to his credit, the man _does_ look suitably desperate with his shaggy dark brown hair escaping the haphazard bun at the back of his head and his eyes smudged with tiredness. He also stares because oh shit, his new neighbour is something fine. Even if he is currently half crazy from fatigue. He has the whole… sexy murder eyes thing going on. The black sweatpants his neighbour wears are dusted with flour, as is the matching long-sleeved t-shirt and…

Is that a unicorn apron-?

Oh yes, it is. Steve takes in the sight of the baby pink apron; a prancing cartoon unicorn takes up most of the space upon its chest, surrounded by frosted cupcakes that he guesses are supposed to be stars. At first he thinks the unicorn is riding the rainbow beneath it, but upon closer look he realizes that the unicorn is actually farting it out. Along with the cupcakes. (Fully frosted? What an achievement!)

His neighbour follows his unblinking gaze and groans, raising the cat to cover his face momentarily. “My apron got ripped. I’m borrowin’ a… friend’s at the moment. A female friend I feel I should clarify.”

“It’s a free world,” Steve shrugs. “I’m not judgin’ you by your apron choices. Steve, by the way. You just moved into 7C?”

“Yeah-” he grins and tucks the grumbling cat under his left arm with a jostle and extends his right, Steve taking it briskly. “Call me Bucky. And this little shit is Voldemort.”

“Hey there Bucky. And uh… that’s kinda a cruel name for a cat, don’t you think? Does he commit murder or something?”

Bucky laughs darkly, glancing down at the cat and reaffirming his grip. Steve swears that its eyes scream bloody murder when his neighbour swoops a hard kiss down upon its fluffy head. “Yeah, well, His Dark Lord earned it barely outta kittenhood. You’d call him by his old name and he’d hiss and spit at you somethin’ crazy. The scars I have, man…”

“Oh, he was called Tom?” He says it without thinking.

A low warning hiss emanates from the ball of ginger fluff and Bucky groans, closing his eyes. “You’re not supposed to say _the_ name, Steve. Now ya gotta watch out for his army of pure-blood alley cats.”

Steve laughs before he can stop himself, eyes flicking from the glowering cat to his owner. “You baking for a party?” Bucky really is quite beautiful in a rugged way. Upon closer inspection Steve spies a smear of red frosting upon his jaw, mingling with the light shadow of stubble upon his jaw line. Was it so terrible for him to want to lick it off when he’s barely known the man five minutes?

He shakes his head, raising his free hand and forcefully shoving the stray strands of hair behind his ear. “Nah. It’s for a wedding. I own a bakery, y’see. Family business and I handle the wedding cakes.” Bucky shrugs a shoulder.

“That’s cool. The bakery nearby?”

“A block over. There’s an apartment above but I let my sister have that. Too close to the workplace, y’know?  She’s always usin’ me as a guinea pig for her failed experiments. And she’s always up at the crack of dawn working on something or another.”

“Seems like you are as well” Steve points out. It _is_ 7am after all. He wonders vaguely how the hell Bucky even knew that he was awake. Perhaps he had been all around the complex trying to shove his cat into someone’s arms all morning? That was an amusing image. He would pay good money to see 8A’s reaction.

“Sadly true. And on that note-” Voldemort yowls as Bucky flips him up a little so he can check the shiny metal watch upon his wrist, a low groan slipping from him. “Yeah, I gotta get this icing done before ten. Guess I’ll just put this one in the toilet, shut the door and stick some earphones in to drown out the death screeching and apologize later with sausage.” Bucky flashes him a wide grin and Steve returns it instantly, feeling like an utter fool. “Sorry for interrupting you. I’ll see you around, Steve.”

 

When Steve leaves the apartment to grab his mail that afternoon when he finally finishes up editing a panel, there’s a small cardboard container with a single black frosted cupcake inside waiting just outside the door. The piped icing design upon the top is in the design of the Dark Mark, but instead of a skull there’s a glowering cat instead. He laughs there and then within the corridor, causing old Mr. Voss to shoot him a disgusted look as he passes. _You-Know-Who and I send our apologies for disturbing you – B_ the note scrawled upon the slip of paper reads. When he turns the note over, there’s a hastily written P.S.

 _Come over at 6pm? The wedding got called off (the_ fuck?!) _and I have a two-tiered red velvet cake to get through for dinner. It comes with beer and a movie. Voldemort swears he’ll remain at the other side of the room with his sausages._

Steve reckons that he’s going to like this guy. Even when he ends up crawling home from eating way too much red velvet cake.


End file.
